


do not weep for the dead, weep for the one left behind

by Eliana_debrey



Series: drafts [1]
Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dick Grayson is dead at the beginning, Grief/Mourning, M/M, References to Depression, Slade Wilson is a widower
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliana_debrey/pseuds/Eliana_debrey
Summary: When Slade buried his husband, he left a part of himself with his lover.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Slade Wilson, Slade Wilson & William Randolph Wintergreen, past Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson - Relationship
Series: drafts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2110263
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60
Collections: Jason Todd Rare Pair Challenge





	do not weep for the dead, weep for the one left behind

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> Honestly, it was supposed to be a rewriting of Rebecca but I did something else and it changed halfway. Hope you'll like it, I didn't want to let it wither in my drafts so here it goes, I will probably rewrite and complete and change the series it belongs to.  
> Thank you :)

It’s easy to fall in love with the sun. He charms you with his smile, makes you feel safe under his warmth. Caresses your face with soft fingers, plays with your hair, and kisses your lips when you close your eyes, brushes your eyelashes with his thumbs.

It’s easy to fall in love with the sun when you’ve only known cold dark emptiness.

It’s worse to lose the sun once you tasted him. It’s heartbreaking to feel like your insides are frozen, turned to ice, slowly cracking under the pressure. Your fingers are always cold, and your lips missing something. You don’t let anyone touch your hair after that.

You don’t let anyone touch you after that.

When Slade Wilson buries his husband after only five short years with him, he feels as if he can never stand up again. Dick took something with him. Something important, something that leaves a gaping hole in his chest. An open wound, with flesh that would darken if it could, a gash so wide he can never close it again.

When Slade Wilson had to go to the morgue, identify his husband after the terrible accident because he could never inflict this on Bruce Wayne, even if the man never liked him. He can’t let a man see his son dead, destroyed, barely the young man he was.

Slade sells the house after the funerals, he can’t stay in it. Dick chose their home, painted it with Slade, kissed him in every room. Slade puts all the photographs away, he can’t look at Dick smiling. Can’t look at his own face, at this idiot not thinking that he could lose everything in a second, over a phone call.

Slade disappears in his work, it’s the only thing keeping him afloat. The only thing that pushes him to get out of bed in the morning and not just lay there uselessly. He didn’t cry, he couldn’t, he got angry instead, and then he just was. Floating around, life still happening, Slade on the sidelines.

Change always happens when you’re looking the other way. Two large books slam against his desk in his office, it’s Billy. Billy who stayed with Slade, Billy who helped him pack everything, Billy who almost handled Slade’s entire life up until now. Billy is angry, he grits his teeth when he is.

“You need some help,” Billy says. It’s a slap that Slade isn’t ready to receive.

“I told you, I don’t need a fucking shrink,” he growls. Billy crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m talking about your job. We talked about therapy already,” Slade scoffs, the talk ended up with a glass thrown through Slade’s living room. “You need someone to handle what you can’t do. You’ve taken too many classes, Slade.”

“I can handle it.”

“Really? Because it’s the second time this week you missed a lesson because you were too busy to remember,” Slade grunts, maybe he did keep himself a bit too busy.

“And what do you propose? You want me to drop them?” Slade asks the head of his department.

“Take a TA, take a fucking break, Wilson.”

“I don’t need some kid still wet behind the ears coming and bothering me when I’m working.”

“Slade, please. Just give it a go. I’m only asking for you to take one until the end of the semester, you can fire them after.”

A long silence stretches between them, Billy looks at him expectantly. His old friend looks tired too, probably from handling his useless best friend. Slade slouches back in his chair.

“Okay, just for the end of the semester.”

“Thank you,” and Billy looks actually relieved.

The first time Slade meets Jason, the boy is wearing black jeans and a red hoodie, his signature look he’ll quickly find out. He shakes his hand and almost gets lost in his eyes. Jason gives him a critical look, then throws a glance at his desk. It’s easy to see the resemblance, to see the dark hair, blue eyes, easy charming smile.

“Your office is a mess,” but where Dick was the warm summer sun, Jason is a clap of thunder.


End file.
